


Fight to Survive

by Anonymous



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dark, Darkish Others, Don't Like Don't Read, Humiliation, Hurt/Comfort, Id Fic, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, NO non-con between maedhros and fingon, Non-Consensual Touching, Out of Character, Panic Attacks, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Abuse, So don't expect it to make much sense, Suicide mention, Years of the Trees, and lots of off screen rape, but lots of referenced described and threatened rape, dark!Fingolfin, dark!Finrod, implied gang rape, no on-screen rape, trigger warnings for each chapter in the end notes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:28:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22281850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Finwë and Indis are missing. Fingolfin has overthrown Fëanor's rule and has practically enslaved the Fëanorians. Maedhros and Fingon have to find a way out of the situation. Will their love survive it?
Relationships: Fingon | Findekáno/Maedhros | Maitimo
Comments: 61
Kudos: 37
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> oh boy. my brain is spitting out these scenes, so i'm trying to write them down whilst keeping a thin semblance of a plot. but don't expect it to make sense cuz i'm literally writing this just for certain scenes. this will be four or five chapters. i hope to update once a week but no promises.
> 
> quenya names used in this chapter:
> 
> Fëanáro = Fëanor  
> Nolofinwë = Fingolfin  
> Maitimo, Russandol, Russo = Maedhros  
> Findekáno, Finno = Fingon  
> Turukáno = Turgon  
> Írissë = Aredhel  
> Arakáno = Argon
> 
> i think i've covered everything in the tags but i'm putting some sorta spoilery triggers in the end notes. if you think i've missed a tag, please let me know.

Fëanáro’s suppressed rage vibrates in the air. Nolofinwë can feel it even with his back to his half-brother. He resists the urge to turn to him, to have another glance at his debauched, ravished form, chained to the ground in the most suggestive pose, at his jet-black hair, streaked with the white of Nolofinwë’s come, at the fire in his eyes that nearly bore a hole in Nolofinwë as he took his pleasure.

He is alluring and terrifying and those who surround him, who want to taste him, are too scared to approach him. But not for long, no. Nolofinwë knows the desire to have Fëanáro submit to them will soon win over the fear and with every new person, the fire in Fëanáro’s eyes will diminish just a little more.

“I am going to visit your firstborn now, so be good for all these people and I will be good to Maitimo.” 

These were the last words Nolofinwë spoke to his half-brother before turning his back to him, feeling the heat of his helpless rage. He will be good. He loves his sons too much not to.

Nolofinwë loves his children too. He had some concerns, he was afraid that they wouldn’t be appreciative of his plans, so he revealed it to them at the latest moment possible, but he was happy to find that his fears were in vain. Turukáno immediately agreed and so did Findekáno and even volunteered to deal with Maitimo using their friendship. Írissë might be a concern, being willful and in friendship with Fëanáro’s sons, but Nolofinwë has sent her together with Arakáno and Anairë to Alqualondë, where the news of the revolt will be slow to reach. Even when it does, Arafinwë will restrain her. No matter what his younger brother thinks of Nolofinwë’s actions, he won’t go against him. After all, his own sons are in full support of the revolt. 

Nolofinwë approaches Findekáno’s chambers. He was pleasantly surprised by his son’s readiness to bring Maitimo to his knees. Apparently, he didn’t appreciate the friendship of Fëanáro’s eldest son as much as it seemed. And if he did, if this is an act, Nolofinwë is about to find out.

/////

He opens the door of Findekáno’s chamber to a pleasant sight. Maitimo is kneeling near Findekáno’s bed, wearing nothing but a collar attached to the bedpost through a chain. His hands are behind his back, his knees are apart. His face is blank. Nolofinwë smiles appreciatively.

“Very good,” he tells his son, who is standing next to Maitimo, “Well-shaped, indeed.”

Findekáno bows his head. 

“His hands are free,” Nolofinwë notices, “Are you so certain of his good behavior?”

“I am,” Findekáno says, “He knows what will happen to his baby brothers if he steps out of line. He will behave.”

“Hmm,” Nolofinwë says, tilting his head and scrutinizing his nephew, “Will you, Maitimo?”

“Yes, my lord,” Maitimo says, all composure, not a muscle twitching.

Findekáno grabs his cousin’s hair, giving it a hard yank. Maitimo’s eyes widen just a notch but enough for Nolofinwë to read the surprise and fear in them before Maitimo gains his composure again.

“He is your king,” Findekáno says, “Address him as such.”

“I apologize, my king,” Maitimo says.

Nolofinwë steps in front of him and takes Maitimo’s jaw, tilting his head up.

“You are even prettier than your father,” he says, watching Maitimo’s face for a reaction. There is none. He stares at somewhere on Nolofinwë’s chest. 

“I used both his holes and left him for others to try,” Nolofinwë says.

No reaction. 

Nolofinwë pulls at Maitimo’s lower lip. “His mouth was especially delectable. I wonder if yours is better. Open up, give my fingers a suck.”

Maitimo glances quickly at Findekáno.

“Do it,” Findekáno orders.

“Yes, my lord.”

Maitimo opens his mouth and takes Nolofinwë’s index finger in. He is shaking a little. Nolofinwë smiles noticing it. Maitimo sucks eagerly, wrapping his tongue around it, hollowing his cheeks and swallowing. 

“You are good at this,” Nolofinwë says, “I wonder if you have experience.” He slips another finger into Maitimo’s mouth. “Keep going. Maybe you will start enjoying it. Your father did.”

Maitimo continues his task. Nolofinwë looks at his dick, nice and soft, well-shaped, as the rest of him. He touches it with the tip of his boot. Maitimo gasps, tensing, tries to pull back but stops himself. Even Findekáno takes a sharp breath.

“Keep going,” Nolofinwë says.

He prods Maitimo’s dick with his boot, while his nephew lavishes attention on all the fingers of Nolofinwë’s right hand. He stays soft, which is disappointing, but the beads of sweat running down his perfectly sculpted chest make up for it. 

Nolofinwë withdraws his fingers, wiping them on his robe. He is half-hard. Fëanáro sated him, but he knows he can get it up with the help of Maitimo’s warm mouth. He steps closer, his crotch right in front of Maitimo’s face. 

“You did well,” he praises his nephew, “Let us see if you will be this good with my cock in your mouth.”

“Father!” Findekáno interrupts, “Father, I-I—”

He looks embarrassed. Nolofinwë smiles kindly. “What is it, son?” he asks.

“I would like to be his first, father,” Findekáno says.

“His first? Don’t be naive, Findekáno. He is definitely experienced in the art of carnal pleasure.”

“If he had a lover, all of Tirion would be talking about it,” Findekáno says.

Nolofinwë ponders on it. “That is true,” he says, then sighs, “So you want Maitimo all for yourself?”

“Yes, father.”

“Greedy, Findekáno, but I understand. You are the crown prince. You can have whatever you wish for.” He looks down at Maitimo. “Is it true? Will Findekáno be your first?”

“Yes, my king,” Maitimo answers, breathing fast. 

“Very well,” Nolofinwë says, stepping back. Maitimo doesn’t relax. “You can have him, Findekáno. Your very own Fëanárion.”

“Thank you, father, thank you!”

“Enjoy him,” Nolofinwë says, “And let me know when you get tired of him.”

He pats Maitimo’s head, smiles at his son and leaves the room.

/////

When Nolofinwë’s footsteps die in the distance, Findekáno collapses next to Maitimo.

“Russandol, I’m sorry,” he weeps, “Forgive me, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine, I’m fine,” Maitimo says, still shaking. “Get this thing off of me.”

Findekáno scrambles to unlock the collar. Maitimo gets to his feet, a little unsteady. “Give me something to wear,” he says.

Findekáno nods and tosses a tunic to Maitimo, loose and long, which he wears to sleep sometimes. 

“I’m fine,” Maitimo repeats to himself, slipping on the tunic.

He rubs his face with his hands and looks at Findekáno.

“Are you crying?” he exclaims, “Why? It went well. You were great.”

Findekáno shakes his head and presses his palms to his eyes. “I was cruel to you, Russandol, I don’t want to be cruel to you.”

“Oh, Finno,” Maitimo says. He walks to his lover and wraps his arms around him. “You had to do it, Finno, or it wouldn’t be believable. You did great. You saved me. Come on, don’t cry.” He rocks Findekáno back and forth and puts a kiss on his head. “I am fine, see? It’s thanks to you.”

Findekáno takes a few deep breaths and pulls back. “This is wrong,” he says, “I should be the one comforting you.” He takes Maitimo’s face between his hands. “I will protect you, Russo. Even if it costs me everything, even if it costs me my life, I will do it. I will defend you till my last breath.”

Maitimo’s eyes soften. He puts his hands over Findekáno’s and leans his forehead against his. “I love you,” he says and moves to taste the same words on Findekáno’s lips.

/////

When Findekáno goes back to his chamber a few hours after the Mingling, weary from urgent councils and from pretending to agree with his family, he finds Maitimo sleeping in his bed, still wearing his tunic. His eyes are red and swollen and Findekáno’s heart breaks for his lover. Maitimo seemed calm earlier, but Findekáno knows how shocked and terrified he is. He puts a tender kiss on Maitimo’s temple, slips into the bed and surrenders to exhaustion.

He wakes up a few hours later but he can’t tell why. There is no noise, nothing that could have disturbed his sleep and he’s used to sleeping under Telperion’s soft light. Only moments later he notices that Maitimo’s shoulders are quivering minutely.

“Russo, are you awake?” he whispers.

There is no answer and Maitimo’s shoulders stop shaking, but Findekáno can clearly see the effort Maitimo puts into staying still.

“Russo?” he says.

Maitimo makes a sound in his throat but nothing more. He’s lying on his side, his back to Findekáno. The younger elf raises on his elbow and gently pulls Maitimo by his shoulder until he’s lying on his back. There are tears streaming down his face. He wipes them angrily but they are rapidly replaced by new ones.

“Oh, Russo,” Findekáno says. 

His own eyes fill with tears. He has rarely seen Maitimo cry and has never been able to bear it. 

“I am so sorry,” he says, “I know what my father did to you today—”

“That’s not it!” Maitimo cries, sitting up, “Or rather that’s exactly it. He did nothing to me. I am in a bed with the one I love, while my father and brothers are suffering. I ought to do something, I ought to help them or at the very least share their fate.”

“Russo, no!” Findekáno says, grabbing him by the shoulders, “What will you gain by sharing their fate? Nothing but pain. I can’t let you do it. I promised to keep you safe and I will.”

“For how long, Findekáno?” Maitimo asks bitterly, “How long until your father calls for me to entertain him and his retinue? Until he decides I have lived long enough and orders my screaming death?”

“It won’t happen. I promise you, Russo. Father said I can keep you as long as I want.”

“So am I to live as your prisoner? Am I to hide in your chamber forever, while my family is tortured?”

“Russo, I—”

“Do not think I am not grateful for what you have done for me, Finno, because I am. I am very grateful. But I would rather you kill me than let me live like this.”

“Don’t say that!”

“It’s the truth.”

“Russo, you have to be patient. The Valar won’t let this stand.”

“The Valar may take ages to reach a decision. I can’t wait so long, I can’t let my family suffer for so long. We have to take matters into our own hands.”

“What are you saying, Russo?”

“I ask you, I beg you, Finno, to help me. Help me get my family out of here, help me save them. You know what your father is doing isn’t right. It isn’t fair. My poor father was right about him all along and I thought he was paranoid, I thought uncle was a good person. I respected him and this is how he answers. Is he justified, Findekáno? Do you think this is what we deserve?” 

“No, of course not—”

Maitimo takes Findekáno’s hands in his feverishly hot ones. “Please, I can’t do this without you. Please. I need you. I need your help. If your love is true, help me and my family escape or help us die.”

“I will not kill you!”

“Then there is only one choice left. Will you do it, Finno? Will you do it for me?”

Findekáno is trembling with his whole body. He clutches at Maitimo’s hands. “Yes,” he whispers, “Anything for you.”

Maitimo lets out a shaky breath. “You realize that you have to go against your father, against your family to help me, don’t you?” he asks.

“I do, Russo.”

“You may have to take drastic measures, you may have to fight against them. Are you ready?”

“Yes.” 

Findekáno’s voice cracks. He can’t help his tears. They flow down in a river, dripping on his and Maitimo’s entwined hands. 

Maitimo grabs him by the back of his head, his fingers sliding easily into the dark hair, and presses their foreheads together.

“Do you give me your word? Do you promise you will help me no matter what?”

Under the silver light, Maitimo’s eyes have a steely glint to them.

“I swear it, Russo,” Findekáno says.

Maitimo closes his eyes and smiles. He pulls Findekáno close. 

“Thank you, my love,” he whispers into his ear and Findekáno shivers.

“We should sleep now. We begin plotting tomorrow,” Maitimo murmurs into his hair. 

He lies down and Findekáno follows the suit, curling up with his head on Maitimo’s chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in this chapter: implied rape, like immediately the aftermath of rape from the rapist's pov, implied gang-rape, hair-pulling, non-consensual genital touching, non-consensual finger-sucking, threats of rape, general cruelty, general anxiety, suicide mention, sorta emotional blackmail but maitimo has no choice 
> 
> anyhoo, hope you enjoyed. if you want to leave a negative comment, reread the tags and the note and think again. if you still leave a negative comment, you'll be gifted a behind-the-scenes torture porn drabble of the feanorian of my choice.
> 
> you can still have a behind-the-scenes torture porn drabble of the feanorian of _your_ choice if you leave a positive comment and say that you want it and who you want. **note:** not all the feanorians are being torture-porned, and their extended family with wives and in-laws is pretty large.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> maitimo has a plan, but it won't be easy to carry out when he's essentially enslaved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did i say i will update every week? hahahaha, nope. anyhoo, this is a kinda meh chapter i know. but i'm building up to the scenes that made me write this in the first place. so bear with me please.
> 
> quenya names used in this chapter:
> 
> Fëanáro = Fëanor  
> Nolofinwë = Fingolfin  
> Maitimo, Russandol, Russo = Maedhros  
> Findekáno, Finno = Fingon
> 
> spoilery triggers in the endnotes

When Findekáno wakes up shortly after the Mingling, he finds Maitimo pacing in the chamber. 

“Why aren’t you in bed?” he mutters, sitting up.

“Oh good, you are finally awake,” Maitimo says, “I have been thinking about what we have to do. I have a plan. Well, not exactly a plan, but I think I know what our first steps are going to be. If we do everything right, we might have a fighting chance.” 

He sounds almost excited, but Findekáno knows him well enough to hear notes of panic in his voice. 

“I think our first step should be taking a deep breath and sitting down,” he says.

Matimo gives him a look that in other circumstances would make Findekáno laugh and then kiss him as an apology. Instead he sighs.

“Fine, tell me,” he says, “But please sit down first.”

Maitimo strides to the bed and sits in front of Findekáno.

“All right, listen,” he says, speaking faster than usual, “First of all we should find out where my brothers are. Am I right in assuming that my mother, my brothers’ families and my maternal grandparents are not arrested?”

“I believe so. They might be under house arrest but they aren’t in the palace.”

“That’s good. So my brothers. Can you find out where they are?”

“I can.”

“Great. Next we must find allies. There might be people loyal to our House who aren’t arrested.”

“I have people, friends, who are loyal to me personally, not to my father. If such a time comes, they will stand with me. Arna, Sartaion, Awaldiel…”

“Awaldiel is good. She’s the head of her house and has many people at her disposal. I’m not so sure about Sartaion. Will he commit treason for you?”

“If I sell it right.”

Maitimo laughs. “That’s settled then. What about our people?”

“Many of your father’s lords have fled, others have bent the knee to my father.”

“There must be some among them who will help us. They might even be in touch with the lords who have fled. We just have to find out who and convince them.”

“How? If they are loyal to your father, they won’t trust me.”

“No, but they will trust _me._ ” Maitimo looks at him, his eyes wide, “Finno, you have to find a way for me to have a free pass in the palace, while the lords are still here.”

Findekáno frowns. “That won’t be easy.”

“Please! You’ll think of something, I know.”

“All right, Russo, you need to calm down a little,” Findekáno says carefully, “I might arrange for you to run errands for me, but my father won’t like that you have it easy.”

“Well then you will make it hard for me!” Maitimo says, breathing fast, “I-I will go around naked or crawling, I don’t care, whatever will please your deranged father.”

“I don’t like that idea.”

“I like it even less, trust me, but I am ready for anything to save my family.”

Findekáno frowns, worrying his lip between his teeth. “I don’t know,” he says, “I’m not sure it will work.”

“It will. It has to. You… are still committed to this idea, aren’t you? You are still going to help me, aren’t you?”

“I swore it, Russo. Don’t you trust me?”

“I do, of course I do. I’m sorry, I’m just-I—”

He gasps, catching his breath, looking in panic at Findekáno.

“Russo?” Findekáno says alarmed.

“Can’t breathe,” Maitimo gasps out, clutching at Findekáno’s wrists. His palms are clammy.

Findekáno almost stops breathing himself, but forces himself to stay calm. Panicking won’t help Maitimo. 

“Deep breaths, Russandol,” he says, “Look at me and take deep breaths. Slowly. Just like you taught me that time I panicked before my exam with your father, remember? Inhale slowly. One-two-three-four-five. Exhale slowly. One-two-three-four-five. Like this. Focus on me.”

Findekáno breathes and Maitimo follows him, calming down little by little. He leans his head against Findekáno’s shoulder and breathes in. Findekáno strokes his hair gently. 

“You are right, it will work, it will be fine,” he says. He sounds way more convinced than he really is, but he knows Maitimo needs to hear it.

“Thank you,” Maitimo says after a while.

“Do you feel better?” Findekáno asks.

Maitimo nods against his shoulder. Findekáno kisses the top of his head and pulls back. 

“I have to go,” he says, “I will bring you something to eat, then I have to go to my father. He will hold council after council. The city is still restless.”

“Don’t forget to get information,” Maitimo says.

“I won’t.”

Findekáno kisses him and leaves, hoping Maitimo won’t work himself up into frenzy again.

/////

Findekáno barely returns to his chamber over the course of the following week. The situation in Tirion is still uncertain. His father is paranoid, suspecting conspiracies and seeing traitors everywhere. There are small riots and disobediences in the city almost every day and Findekáno with his brother and cousins is often sent to deal with them. They manage to smoothen the situation without serious clashes.

On the one hand, Findekáno is glad that the Fëanáro’s family is forgotten for now, but on the other hand, Maitimo is getting more and more restless closed in the chamber, asking Findekáno for information every time he returns and getting frustrated when Findekáno can’t give it to him. He barely eats, barely sleeps. He has written and rewritten the list of the people he thinks are still loyal to the House of Fëanáro, memorized it and destroyed the evidence. A couple of times, Findekáno has found him murmuring the names under his breath. 

Finally, after a week or so, Findekáno returns to his chamber with good news. Well, no, just news. But it’s better than nothing.

Maitimo looks up at him expectantly. Findekáno gives him a tired smile.

“We have discussed the fate of your family today,” he says.

Maitimo takes a sharp breath. “Tell me.”

“All right, but first promise me you will eat something. Russandol, if you want to fight, you have to take care of yourself.”

Maitimo nods and reaches for the porridge that went cold long ago. “Tell me,” he says.

“We talked about what to do with your brothers,” Findekáno says and Maitimo stiffens, “It was decided to have Makalaurë play and sing whenever someone from the family or a lord loyal to our House wishes so. Tyelkormo is still closed up. They believe him too dangerous to be let out. Carnistir will work in the stables and mend clothes. Curufinwë is in the forge. The Ambarussar are closed in separate rooms. It hasn’t been decided what to do with them yet, as they are young. Your father… well, you know.” Maitimo nods, his hands clenching into fists. “Your mother and her parents, Curufinwë’s wife and Tyelperinquar cannot leave their house,” Findekáno continues, “Makalaurë and Carnistir’s families are allowed to move freely within the borders of Tirion, though they are followed anywhere they go.”

“All right, good, that’s good,” Maitimo says, the porridge bowl shaking in his hands, “Have you seen any of my brothers?”

“Not yet,” Findekáno says, “Eat.”

Maitimo obeys, thought Findekáno can see that his thoughts are far away.

“I talked to Arna and Awaldiel,” Findekáno says. Maitimo’s eyes focus on him. “I didn’t exactly tell them what we want to do, but we talked a bit and they didn’t seem happy with the situation. They tried to hide it from me, but I could see it. I will talk to Sartaion tomorrow, though I imagine his reaction isn’t going to be any different.”

“That’s good. Dissent is good,” Maitimo says, “Potential allies are even better. About that. Did you find out if I can walk freely in the palace?”

Findekáno bites the inside of his cheek like he always does when he’s nervous. Then he stops because Maitimo notices and frowns.

“I talked to my father,” Findekáno says, “Yes, he said you are allowed to walk in the palace on an errand from me…”

“What’s the catch?”

Findekáno looks down and mumbles, “You have to be naked.”

Maitimo rolls his eyes. “Oh, great, that is just great. Of course he would say that. All right, I expected it. It’s not a big deal.”

“You will also have to wear the collar,” Findekáno says looking at Maitimo’s hands instead of his face. They tighten around the bowl.

“I hate that thing,” Maitimo mutters.

“I know, but you have to. I’m sorry, Russandol.” He swallows and forces himself to look at Maitimo’s face. “There is something else. You will also have to-to wear the device of our house, so people will know you are… mine, or else anyone can-can… do whatever they like with you.”

Findekáno’s hands are clenched into fists. Maitimo has paled a little.

“Where do I have to wear it if I am naked?” he asks, deceptively calm.

Findekáno closes his face with his hands.

“On your cock,” he mumbles.

Maitimo lets out an incredulous snort. “Are you serious?”

“I’m sorry.”

Maitimo takes a few deep breaths and pulls Findekáno’s hands away from his face.

“It’s fine, Finno,” he says, “It might even cover me a little, so it’s not that bad, right?”

“I guess,” Findekáno says, “It-it’s a protection of sorts. It’s not required, but if you don’t have it, anyone can… It’s better if you have it. Only a member of the royal family can remove it or order its removal. So only my father, my brother and I.”

“All right,” Maitimo says, his voice slightly strangled, “I will do it. I can do it. Tomorrow?”

“If you are ready,” Findekáno says, “Many of the lords are still in the palace because my father just won’t stop holding councils and he’s wary of letting them go. You will go to them. If anyone asks, you will say that I have sent you to invite them to a feast.”

“Good thinking.” Maitimo gives him a small smile. “Tomorrow then. Thank you, Finno. Thank you, my love.”

Findekáno feels his cheeks heat up and he smiles back. “Please try to eat some more and sleep,” he says, “Tomorrow is not going to be easy.”

Maitimo nods and returns to the porridge.

/////

With the collar around his neck and the Nolofinwëan device around his cock, Maitimo walks down the corridors, trying to stay as inconspicuous as possible. It is difficult for someone like him, of course, so he walks swiftly and quietly, staring at the floor. He can feel his chest and face coloring, can feel his hands beginning to shake. He starts counting in his mind, focusing only on getting the numbers right. It helps for a while, but then he passes by someone and hears a gasp and suddenly he’s reddening again.

 _I can do it, I can do it, I have to,_ he repeats in his mind, he has to remember what he’s doing this for, why he’s doing it. He can’t fail. He can’t let his family down.

The first name on his list is Lord Mancarion. He was a one-time student and a long-time supporter of Fëanáro and has always been close to the family. If anyone is still on their side, it will be Mancarion, doesn't matter if he has sworn fealty to Nolofinwë. Maitimo doesn’t blame anyone for bending the knee. It’s the smart thing to do. After all, he also pretends to be docile and obedient to survive this. 

Finally, he reaches the chamber Findekáno has said Mancarion stays in and knocks at the door. His skin under the collar itches and he’s painfully aware of his nakedness. But it doesn’t matter, shouldn’t matter. What matters is getting Mancarion to help his family. 

The lord himself opens the door. His eyes widen when he sees Maitimo.

“My Prince?” he says, “What a surprise. Come in.”

It’s a good sign that Mancarion called him prince. Maitimo goes inside, encouraged. 

“I have to say I didn’t expect you,” the lord says.

Maitimo decides to play it safe for now. “Prince Findekáno has sent me to invite you to a feast after next Mingling,” he says.

“That is very nice of him,” Mancarion says, “Though I was hoping to leave before the Mingling. If our new king allows, of course.”

There is a disdainful smirk on his face as he says it and Matimo takes hope. “It might be dangerous to speak that way of the king,” he says carefully.

“It might,” Mancarion says. He approaches to the younger elf. “It pains me to see you in this state, Maitimo,” he says looking from the collar to the device on his cock.

Maitimo wills himself not to go red but in vain. He says nothing, wary to reveal his plans too soon.

“I have always had a soft spot for you,” Mancarion says, putting his hand on Maitimo’s shoulder. Maitimo smiles, but his smile disappears when Mancarion twirls a strand of auburn hair around his finger. “Such beauty wasted on that brat,” he says, “He won’t mind if I have a taste, will he?”

Maitimo takes a step back. “Lord Mancarion, what do you think you are doing?” he says, trying to summon all his authority and power.

Lord Mancarion smiles mirthlessly. “Rules have changed, Maitimo, haven’t you noticed? Everyone takes what they want. Why can’t I? Come now, I’m sure I am a better lover than Findekáno.”

Maitimo turns to the door, but Mancarion reaches it first. “You won’t leave here until you give me what I want. Don’t be difficult, Maitimo. It doesn’t have to be this way.”

Maitimo’s heart is beating wildly in his chest. He has to think, has to find a way out. He can call for help, but this part of the palace is deserted and he suspects no one would come to his aid even if they heard. He’s pretty sure that he can overpower Mancarion, but it’s a last resort. Who knows what will come out of it?

“You can’t touch me,” he says, “I have the device. You can’t touch me if I have it.”

“What, this?” Mancarion reaches and grabs Maitimo’s cock. The younger elf gasps and jumps back. Mancarion laughs softly. “I don’t think our noble prince Findekáno will mind,” he says, approaching Maitimo again.

“He will!” Maitimo says, walking backwards, “He will mind very much. He’s-he’s very jealous of his… possessions. He wouldn’t give this to me if he didn’t mind, would he?” His back hits the wall. “You will anger him,” he says, “You don’t need it.”

Mancarion presses his body to Maitimo’s, his hands caressing the younger elf’s hips. Maitimo pushes him away roughly and raises his fist, but Mancarion grabs it.

“Do you want to hit me?” he says, “Come on, do it. I will take it up straight to Nolofinwë. What do you think he will do? Will your greedy Findekáno be able to protect you? I don’t think so.”

Maitimo’s arm falls down helplessly. Mancarion is right, he knows, Nolofinwë won’t miss the chance to humiliate him.

Mancarion grins and presses him to the wall again. “Good boy,” he says, “You have always been smart, Maitimo.” He sucks eagerly at Maitimo’s neck, above the collar. “Smart and handsome.” His hands cup Maitimo’s ass and he grinds his hips against the younger elf’s. Maitimo tries to pull back but there is nowhere to go. He feels faint. “No wonder Findekáno has taken you all for himself,” Mancarion says, “It is very selfish of him not to share you, but I would do the same.” He turns Maitimo face to the wall and kicks his feet apart. “I would take you to bed but I’m impatient,” he says, squeezing his cheeks.

“Findekáno is selfish, yes,” Maitimo says, his breath hitching. His knees are trembling and he doesn’t know how he manages to keep himself standing. “He will hear of this and he won’t like it. He doesn’t like to share. He-he hates it. You will pay for this. He will make you pay.”

Mancarion stops for a moment. “I will just tell him that you took off the device,” he says, “And it means you are available to anyone who wants.” He laughs and leans down to kiss Maitimo’s shoulder, presses his erection to the other elf's ass. Maitimo swallows down a whimper. Mancarion laughs. “Who will he believe? You or me?”

“Me,” Maitimo says desperately, “He knows I wouldn’t risk it because-because… he will punish me.” He sends a silent apology to Findekáno. “And he knows it is a punishment I fear. And-and we have known each other since childhood." Words are tumbling out of his mouth fast and breathless. "We have always been close. He knows when I lie. He will believe me. And who are you? A lord who has always been an outspoken supporter of my father. Nolofinwë doesn’t trust you. He’s looking for traitors everywhere. And disobedience such as this? Disrespecting his device? He will jump on the chance. Do you want to risk your life and freedom for a few moments of pleasure? I thought you were smarter than that.”

Mancarion grabs Maitimo by the neck and presses his face to the wall. “Don’t take me for a fool, child!”

“I don’t,” Maitimo says, “Do it, I don’t care. I’m used to it. You will just be one more fuck. But Findekáno will find out and he will make sure his father punishes you.”

He holds his breath, trying to stop shaking. After a moment, Mancarion drags him to the door. “Get out,” he growls, pushing him into the corridor and slamming the door. 

Maitimo stumbles away as fast as he can, leaning on the walls, dizzy and nauseous. When he feels he is far enough from Mancarion’s chamber, he slumps down, hugging his knees and trying to regulate his breathing. His heart is still in his throat and there are angry tears in his eyes. His head is swimming. He feels like what just happened was a dream. It doesn’t feel real.

With a jolt, he realizes the device isn't on his cock. Panicking, he looks around and finds it near his foot. He takes it and ties it on his cock again, his hands trembling. Somehow it feels more humiliating than when he put it first before leaving Findekáno's chamber. He bites his lips to push back a frustrated scream.

The wall and the ground are cold. He knows he has to get up, but he’s shaking too badly. His plan has barely been put in motion and it’s already such a spectacular failure. He presses his palms to his eyes. How could he have misjudged so terribly? Mancarion has always seemed so nice, so kind. So this is who he is when he thinks he can face no consequences. How can Maitimo be sure that the other lords aren’t like him? How can he go to them for help after this?

He wraps his arms around himself. He doesn’t want to go see the other lords. He wants to go back to Findekáno’s chamber, crawl under the covers, pull Findekáno close and fall asleep with his warm body next to his. He wants to wake up and know that none of this has been real. That he has just accidentally fallen asleep in Findekáno’s room and he has to go out quietly before anyone notices. He wants to go home and hear his father in the forge, hear the twins arguing with Tyelkormo, hear Makalaurë’s incessant music practice. 

But he will never have it again if he doesn’t get up right now. 

He forces himself back to his feet, swallows down his nausea and starts walking. One foot, then the next, step by step, he walks until he reaches the chamber of the next lord on his list.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in this chapter: panic attack, general anxiety, sexual assault, attempted rape, non-consensual touching, groping. i think that's it.
> 
> my note at the end of the first chapter still stands.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> maitimo is plotting, but nolofinwë is no fool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we've already established that i'm a lying liar who lies when it comes to updates but i also lied about the number of chapters. this will be a bit longer than four-five chapters.
> 
> quenya names used in this chapter:
> 
> Fëanáro = Fëanor  
> Nolofinwë = Fingolfin  
> Maitimo, Russandol, Russo = Maedhros  
> Findekáno, Finno = Fingon  
> Turukáno = Turgon  
> Findaráto = Finrod
> 
> as usual, spoilery triggers in the end.

Maitimo still feels slightly out of it, standing in front of the door of Lord Airawë and Lady Sornintyalë. Both were friends of his grandparents and have traveled to Valinor with them. They have known Maitimo, his brothers and his father since their birth, but Maitimo’s fist is still shaking when he raises it and knocks at the door. Sornintyalë opens it, her eyes going wide when he sees the elf before her.

“Maitimo,” she whispers.

“My lady. May I please come in?”

She nods and steps aside. Maitimo enters, his head bowed, his stomach in knots, his face hot. 

“Maitimo?” says the booming voice of Lord Airawë.

“Prince Findekáno has sent me to invite you to a feast,” he says. 

He doesn’t look at their faces. He keeps close to the door, his body coiled, ready to dash out at the slightest sign that their intentions are similar to those of Mancarion. 

“Oh, my dear,” Sornintyalë says, and then there is a cloak wrapped around Maitimo, covering his quivering body.

He jumps when it touches him, but then finally looks up. Both the lord and the lady are staring at him slightly shocked but with compassion shining in their eyes.

“Come, dear, sit, you are shaking,” Sornintyalë says, guiding Maitimo to a chair.

Maitimo is wary to get far from the door, but he follows the lady and sits, still tense, his fingers clutching at the cloak. Airawë thrusts a cup in his hand. 

“Drink,” he says kindly.

It’s tea, sprinkled with something strong, and it calms Maitimo’s nerves. He looks up at the couple. They are staring at him with an identical worried expression.

“I am sorry for my state,” Maitimo says, “It didn’t depend on me.”

“We know that, dear,” Sornintyalë says.

Airawë shakes his head. “We’ve heard Findekáno has taken you. I could swear the boy had no cruel bone in his body. I kept telling Fëanáro that he’s a good one. Never thought I could be so wrong.”

“No, he… he is kind,” Maitimo says.

“You don’t have to pretend in front of us, dear,” Sornintyalë says, “At least when we are with our own, we can speak freely. I loathe that we have to lie, have to feign loyalty to that monster.”

“Time will come and we will stop pretending, I promise you that, my light,” the lord says, “I will do everything possible to make that day arrive sooner.”

Maitimo listens to them carefully and decides to take the risk. “Do you give your word, Lord Airawë?” he asks, “Are you truly determined to make it happen?”

The lord and the lady look at him in surprise. “Do you have something in mind, Maitimo?” Airawë asks.

Maitimo has stopped shaking. He sits straighter in the chair, his eyes burning brightly. Despite his half-nakedness, despite the collar around his neck, despite his hair falling loose and unbraided down his back, he looks every bit the prince he is.

“I do,” he says.

/////

“Finally,” Findekáno exclaims when Maitimo returns, “I was about to go looking for you.” He gives Maitimo his tunic. “I was worried,” he says quietly, “How did it go?”

Maitimo grins at him. “It went well,” he says evenly, though there is a note of disbelief in his voice.

“Really?” Findekáno approaches him, unlocks the collar and throws it aside, “I am so relieved, Russo, I thought—” He frowns, noticing a bruise on Maitimo’s neck. “Who did this?” he asks.

“What, jealous?” Maitimo says chuckling.

“Russo…”

“Lord Mancarion wasn’t inclined to discuss my plans,” Maitimo says, “He had other, umm, other ideas.”

Findekáno clenches his fists. “Did he hurt you?” he cries, “Did he— What did he do?”

“Nothing, really.” Maitimo shrugs. “I told him you would be mad and punish him, so he got scared and didn’t do anything.” Findekáno raises his eyebrows and Maitimo laughs. “Finno, forget it! It doesn’t matter! He’s just one person and there are many who will help us.” He cups Findekáno’s face, pulls him closer and kisses him firmly on the mouth. “We are doing it, Finno,” he says grinning and hugs Findekáno tightly, “We are really doing it. We will get out. We will get my family out.”

His smile and optimism are infectious and Findekáno finds himself smiling with him. “Tell me everything,” he says, taking Maitimo’s hands in his.

/////

Plotting a great escape takes months of secret meetings and meticulous planning. Maitimo knows that every extra minute is another minute his family suffers, but he forces himself to be patient. They have to coordinate so many things, to plan for every possibility. They will have just this one chance.

Maitimo goes from meeting to meeting under the pretense of having orders from Findekáno. He has learned not to be embarrassed by his nakedness, to ignore Nolofinwë’s device on his cock. He still hates the collar, but has learned to bear it. His cousins and uncle leave him alone by Findekáno’s demand. He tries not to think that instead they focus their attention on his family. It will do no good thinking about it.

He is walking back to Findekáno’s chamber from one such meeting when he hears his uncle’s voice call his name. He suppresses a shudder and turns to face Nolofinwë. His uncle looks at him with a smirk, which slowly turns into a frown the longer they stand in silence. Maitimo realizes his mistake and sinks to his knees.

“Apologies, my king,” he says.

Nolofinwë approaches him slowly. His smirk has returned to his face. “I haven’t seen you for a while, Maitimo,” he says. Maitimo says nothing. Nolofinwë tilts his head. “Follow me.”

His heart hammering in his chest, Maitimo gets to his feet. Nolofinwë turns to him, his eyes cold. 

“I don’t recall allowing you to stand,” he says.

Maitimo hesitates for a moment, then goes on all four. Blood rushes to his face. He tries to control his breathing. He can’t let this get to him, can’t let a little humiliation rattle him. 

His hair covering his face, he follows Nolofinwë, not even noticing where he is going. Only when they enter the chamber, he realizes that it is the one that used to belong to his father. He stares, taking in the familiar sights. He has played and studied here. Nolofinwë has taken it too like he took everything.

His uncle sits on the side of the bed. He glances at Maitimo. “Come here,” he orders, “Kneel between my legs. Back to me.”

Maitimo swallows his worries and obeys. He wonders what Nolofinwë is going to do. He knows the device can’t protect him here. 

Nolofinwë strokes his hair. It alarms Maitimo more than a blow would.

“Your hair is so beautiful,” Nolofinwë says.

“Thank you, my king,” Maitimo answers. He mustn’t tremble. It was just a compliment, one he has received hundreds of times. It means nothing.

“Tell me, Maitimo,” Nolofinwë says, “What were you doing in the corridor?” 

“I had an errand from the Crown Prince, my king,” Maitimo says evenly.

“Hmm,” Nolofinwë says. He takes a comb and runs it slowly through Maitimo’s long silky hair. “I see my son has found another use for you. Do you think he would be a good ruler, Maitimo?”

“Of course, my king. He would be an excellent ruler.”

Nolofinwë continues combing Maitimo’s hair gently, without hurry. “I am glad you think so,” he says, “Sometimes I think he is too soft-hearted. My father was too soft-hearted and look where it got him. Where do you think he and my mother have gone, Maitimo? Where have they disappeared?” 

He starts braiding Maitimo’s hair, his deft fingers finding their way through the soft strands. The younger elf feels himself relax involuntarily. He hasn’t had his hair braided for a while. The king wants his prisoners to wear their hair loose unless specifically ordered otherwise. Another insult, another way to deprive them of the possibility to show their identity, their station. But now he is braiding it himself. It is a simple worker’s braid, true, but it still feels nice.

“I asked you a question, Maitimo,” Nolofinwë says mildly.

Maitimo blinks and curses himself silently. He has to stay alert.

“I-I don’t know, my king,” he says.

He has thought about it a lot, but it’s no use now. The fact is that Finwë and Indis are gone and now they all have to suffer for it.

“Do you know what I think?” Nolofinwë says, “I think my father realized his mistake. He realized how much he had spoiled Fëanáro, how unfit your father was for ruling, but he didn’t know how to correct it. So he left. He knew this was going to happen. He knew it would be the right thing to do. And he left it to me. He left it to me to correct his mistakes. Do you agree, Maitimo?”

Maitimo is barely listening. These sensations are so comforting, familiar to him since early childhood that he almost slips. He almost says _yes, uncle_. He catches himself in time.

“Yes, my king,” he says.

“Hmm.” Nolofinwë ties the braid with a ribbon. “You could be a great advisor to me if you weren’t your father’s son. Don’t you think so, Maitimo?”

 _I wouldn’t be half the elf I am if I weren’t my father’s son,_ Maitimo thinks, but aloud he says, “You honor me, my king.”

Nolofinwë sighs, strokes Maitimo’s braid, then grabs it and yanks his head back. “Enough of this mockery,” he hisses, “You think you are so smart, don’t you, Maitimo? You think you have fooled me with your _yes, my king_ and _apologies, my king_.” He pulls the braid harder. “But I know you. I know there is something brewing inside that pretty head of yours. Do not even try, Maitimo. Do not even think. You are not stronger than me, you are not smarter than me. You will fail. Inevitably. Is it clear?” He shakes the younger elf. “Is it?”

“Yes,” Maitimo says, trying to keep his cool, “But, my king, I would never assume… I would never go against you or against my lord Findekáno. I know how lucky I am to—”

“You are indeed lucky to have my son’s attention. I do wonder if he treats you the way you deserve.”

Instantly, Maitimo is pressed face down to the floor, his ass up. Nolofinwë parts his cheeks and Maitimo struggles, tries to get away.

Nolofinwë’s nails dig into his skin and Maitimo stills. Nolofinwë taps at his hole with a knuckle. “Doesn’t look like it has been used recently,” he says, “Has my son fucked you today?”

“N-no, not today,” Maitimo says, trying to breathe through his panic.

“Why not?”

“I-I don’t know. He didn’t-didn’t feel like it, my king.”

Nolofinwë presses his knuckle to Maitimo’s hole. The younger elf takes a sharp breath. Terror is clawing at his insides, making him break into a cold sweat. 

“Has he ever fucked you?” Nolofinwë asks.

“Yes, my king.”

He and Findekáno have had sex, all kinds of it, but not since the revolt. 

Nolofinwë drags him back on his knees and he shudders, not daring to breathe out a sigh of relief. The King pulls his chin up, slides a finger along his collar.

“Doesn’t look like he is strict enough with you if this is what he makes you wear,” he says. 

He stands, goes to the other side of the room and returns with another collar. He unlocks the one Maitimo wears (all the members of the royal family have keys to the collars) and snaps the other shut around his neck. It is too tight, and it immediately leaves Maitimo wheezing, gasping for air. Nonchalantly, Nolofinwë attaches a leash to it and jerks it once. Maitimo coughs and barely holds himself up. Nolofinwë pulls it again and Maitimo falls on his hands and knees. Nolofinwë drags him to the door. Then he leans down to whisper into his ear.

“You are to come with Findekáno to the feast, wearing this,” he says, “There you will see that you can do nothing. You are nothing. You have no power. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, my king,” Maitimo croaks.

Nolofinwë opens the door. “Out,” he says. 

Maitimo crawls out immediately and stands up when the door closes after him. Blinking away tears, he nearly runs to Findekáno’s chamber, scratching at his neck.

/////

Findekáno is walking to his chamber after a training and a swim when he comes across his brother and Findaráto. His cousin looks excited and Turukáno’s face is unreadable as usual.

“Where are you going?” Findekáno asks to be polite. 

“To visit our cousin Tyelkormo,” Findaráto says with a grin, “I finally convinced your brother to come with me. Do you want to join us? He is very fun.”

Findekáno tries to keep his face neutral. “No, thank you, Findaráto. Maybe another time.”

“Oh, of course, why would you? You have one only for yourself, don’t you?” Findaráto winks at him. “How is Maitimo? Any good? I bet he is.” He leans forward and asks in mock whisper, “Do you feel inclined to share, cousin?”

Findekáno forces a smile on his face. “If I do, you will be the first to know,” he says, walking away and not resisting the desire to bump hard into his cousin.

“Ow,” Findaráto says, but his grin doesn’t fade. “I will be looking forward to it,” he cries after Findekáno.

/////

Findekáno knows Maitimo must have already returned, but when he opens the door, he doesn’t see him at first.

“Russo?” he says and then he looks to the right and sees him sitting in a corner, hugging his knees. “Russo, what’s wrong?” he asks alarmed.

Maitimo looks up at him. “Please take this off of me,” he says. 

Only now Findekáno sees that he’s wearing a different collar, one with a leash. He doesn’t ask what has happened. It can wait. Instead he starts rummaging in his drawers for the key. He has been given three collars: the one he usually gave Maitimo because it looked the most harmless; this one for a leash; and a spiked one, which Findekáno didn’t even want to touch. He usually puts the first key near the bed, so Maitimo can unlock his collar if Findekáno isn’t there. But the other keys…

“Where did I put it?” he growls, kicking the chest of drawers in anger. 

He hears a jingle and finally sees the keys in the drawer. He grabs it and runs to Maitimo, kneeling next to him and quickly unlocking the collar. Maitimo collapses against him, drawing short breaths and shaking. Findekáno holds him, then looks at his neck and sees the deep imprints left by the collar and scratches, some light, some bloody.

“Oh, Russandol,” he says. 

He helps Maitimo to the bed, where he sits and stares at his knees, his eyes glazed over. Findekáno finds ointments and smears some over the scratches on his lover’s neck, then bandages them. 

“Russo, what happened?” he asks when he’s done.

Maitimo blinks and looks at him. “Your father,” he says.

Findekáno feels his heart skip a bit. “What did he do?” he whispers.

Maitimo shrugs. “Finno, can we please talk about it later?” he says weakly, “I will tell you, but now I just-I just want you to stay with me. Would you? Please.”

“Of course, my love.”

Maitimo curls up on the bed and Findekáno lies down behind him, pressing close, his face buried in Maitimo’s soft, thick braid, which he guesses is also his father’s doing. He wraps his arm around the older elf’s waist and Maitimo takes his hand, clutching at it tightly. 

“I am here, Russo,” Findekáno whispers, “I am with you, my love.”

Maitimo brings their entwined hands to his lips and kisses Findekáno’s palm. Findekáno holds him until he feels Maitimo relax slowly. He kisses the back of his neck and feels Maitimo’s lips that are still pressed to his palm curl up in a small smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in this chapter: mention of previous sexual assault, more sexual assault, humiliation (mainly collaring and making to crawl), creepy hair-combing, creepy hair-braiding, chocking, implied rape/sexual abuse (i mean what do you think findarato was going to do, he's an ass), shock, very light self-harm
> 
> first chapter note is still valid. you can request a drabble if you'd like.
> 
> feast next!!! it will not be fun. well not for maitimo. it will be fun for me. in a painful way.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> maitimo suffers a lot. that's it, that's the chapter. i wanted to squeeze in some hurt/comfort in the end but this got long enough, so the boys will have to wait until the next chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what's this? a new chapter just a week after the last one? yes, it's possible (because i wrote most of it ages ago).
> 
> quenya names used in this chapter:
> 
> Fëanáro = Fëanor  
> Nolofinwë = Fingolfin  
> Maitimo = Maedhros  
> Findekáno, Finno = Fingon  
> Turukáno = Turgon  
> Findaráto = Finrod
> 
> more detailed triggers in the endnotes

Putting a golden, starlike brooch in his hair, Findekáno turns to Maitimo. His lover is sitting on the bed and staring at the wall. Findekáno approaches and squeezes his shoulder. Maitimo startles a little, blinks and shakes his head.

“Is it time?” he asks.

“Yes, nearly.”

Maitimo looks up at him.

“You look beautiful,” he says with a smile, raising his hand to caress Findekáno’s face.

Findekáno grins, but his grin fades almost immediately. He sits next to Maitimo. “How do you feel?” he asks.

Maitimo shrugs. “Well, I hate it. I’m dreading it. I have no idea what your father will do, but I know I won’t like it. My only comfort is that you will be there. I will just have to obey and endure. I have to do it for my family.”

“I may have to be cruel to you,” Findekáno says, bowing his head.

“I know, Finno. We can’t let them suspect you. They have to believe that you are on their side. Look at me.” Findekáno doesn’t, his head hanging to his chest. “Hey, look at me,” Maitimo says, cupping Findekáno’s face and waiting until he raises his head. “We can do it, all right? We can do it. Say it.”

“We can do it,” Findekáno says and believes it. 

Maitimo nods, then gets up and starts undressing. “Bring me my accessories,” he says, “Can’t let you upstage me with your golden braids and silver robes.”

Findekáno rolls his eyes and brings the Nolofinwëan device and the collar with the leash. He has tried to loosen it as much as possible, so it won’t choke Maitimo too much, but it’s still tighter than he would have liked. Maitimo grimaces when he clasps it around his neck. Then he takes a deep breath and puts the leash in Findekáno’s hand.

“Looks more convincing,” he says, “Lead the way.”

/////

The first thing Findekáno sees when he enters the hall with Maitimo on a leash is Findaráto’s feline grin.

“Finally!” Findaráto cries, “I was already thinking you had killed Maitimo in a fit of passion.”

Findekáno sends him a half-hearted glare and sits to the right of the throne with Maitimo kneeling by his seat. Findekáno doesn’t know what to do with the leash. He just keeps it in his hand, careful not to pull it. He looks around, an uneasy feeling creeping into his heart when he sees how many guests there are and how many of them are part of the conspiracy with Maitimo and himself. He’s glad that at least Makalaurë won’t be here. He hasn’t recovered yet after the previous feast. It would be far more difficult for Maitimo to retain his composure if he had to watch his brother being tortured. 

Many of the guests are staring and murmuring between themselves, but Maitimo doesn’t look at anyone. His gaze is fixed on the foot of the table. His back is straight, his hair cascading down his shoulders. His breathing is even. He doesn’t move. 

When Nolofinwë enters, the whispers stop. Everyone stands and bows. Nolofinwë takes his place on the throne. He spares just one glance at Maitimo and nods at Findekáno with approval. Findekáno lets out a breath. Maybe it will be easier than he thought. His father doesn’t pay attention to Maitimo. He speaks with his sons and nephews, he drinks to victory, to the success of the revolt, he jokes with his lords. Findekáno almost believes that the worst is over until Findaráto turns him, his eyes glinting.

“Cousin Maitimo looks so much better with his clothes off, don’t you think?” he asks, “I have dreamed of seeing him like this ever since I have caught a glimpse of this glorious body on a beach in Alqualondë. Can I have a closer look?”

Findekáno counts to ten and smiles at him. “Sure,” he says with some hesitation, “Maitimo, go to Findaráto.”

Maitimo tries to stand, but Nolofinwë, who has been talking to one of his lords, reaches for the leash without even looking and pulls it.

“No Fëanárion stands while I am here,” he says.

Findekáno takes a few moments to answer. “Oh, of course,” he says with forced calm, “Crawl, Maitimo.”

“Yes, my lord,” Maitimo says obediently, “I apologize, my king.”

He crawls on all fours the few feet to Findaráto’s chair and kneels before him. 

“Oh, doesn’t he look pretty like this?” Findaráto coos, “Lie on your back and open your legs. I want to see what you are hiding there.”

Findekáno clenches his fists and stares at his plate.

“Findekáno, he doesn’t obey me. You haven’t trained him well,” Findaráto calls too happily.

Findekáno forces himself to look. Maitimo is still on his knees. He catches Findekáno’s gaze, his own slightly panicky.

“What are you waiting for?” Findekáno says, “Do as my cousin says!”

“Yes, my lord, I apologize,” Maitimo says hastily.

He lies on his back. Findekáno averts his gaze. 

“Oh, will you look at that?” Findaráto says, “Turukáno, look, pretty, isn’t it? Very nice, back on your knees, Maitimo. No, on your hands and knees, I want Turukáno to see your ass. Oh, how adorable, his whole body goes red when he blushes.”

Findekáno tries to stop listening. He blinks back tears and concentrates on the conversation his father is having with his lords, but Maitimo’s gasp forces him to whirl to his cousin. 

Findaráto has one hand in Maitimo’s hair, the other one is grabbing his ass. 

“Both his hair and his skin feel like silk,” he announces. 

Maitimo goes redder than Findekáno thought was possible. Findekáno jumps to his feet.

“No touching, just looking,” he hisses at Findaráto, “You see that sign there? It means only I can touch him.”

Findaráto pouts. “Oh, come on, Findekáno, let me have some fun.”

“No!” Findekáno spits through his teeth, “He is mine! Mine! Maitimo, come here!”

Maitimo tries to crawl away, but Findaráto doesn’t let go of his hair. “Uncle, tell Findekáno to let me play with his toy for a little bit!” he says.

Almost everyone present is staring at Maitimo, only some of the loyalists have turned away. Nolofinwë looks at Findaráto, then at Maitimo and smirks.

“Findekáno, let your cousin play,” he says.

Findekáno grits his teeth. “Fine!” he says, “But don’t hurt him!”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Findaráto says happily, “I won’t fuck him without your permission, I will just touch him a bit.” 

He pulls the device off Maitimo’s cock demonstratively and throws it to Findekáno. Then he takes out a vial with dark liquid inside and adds it to his wine.

“Here, drink this, cousin,” he tells Maitimo, bringing the goblet to the other elf’s lips.

“What is that?” Findekáno asks, “I swear if you poison him…”

“Relax, Findekáno, it’s no poison. This will just make things more fun for us and for you too, Maitimo. Drink.”

Maitimo turns his head away. Findaráto sighs. 

“If you keep being difficult, I may go and fetch your youngest brothers,” he says, “Poor dears are all alone. I’m sure they will be happy to see each other and you. Then the fun will start.”

Maitimo trembles. “I apologize, my lord,” he says and opens his mouth. 

Findaráto makes him drink the entire goblet. Then he pulls Maitimo’s hair, forcing his head so far back that Findekáno is afraid his neck will break. With his other hand he fondles Maitimo’s cock and balls. The redhead gasps and squirms and Findaráto bursts out in musical laughter. 

“Is he usually this shy, Findekáno?” he asks, “Maitimo always seemed so fun.”

“He is great fun,” Findekáno mutters.

“We will see,” Findaráto says.

He squeezes Maitimo’s cock, making him draw a pained breath and look at Findekáno with wide eyes.

“Hey, I need that thing, don’t damage it,” Findekáno says.

“He can take it,” Findaráto says, but releases Maitimo. “On your hands and knees,” he orders, “Stick out your ass.”

Maitimo glances at Findekáno for a moment, then steels himself visibly. His eyes go glassy and he obeys. Findaráto starts running his hands over Maitimo’s ass and thighs. Findekáno wants to look away, but he’s afraid Findaráto will do something too awful and he won’t see it in time to stop it. He watches and reminds himself to stay calm, indifferent, tells himself that it will end, that if he doesn’t play by the rules, it will be worse for Maitimo. 

“So soft,” Findaráto says, “Turukáno, feel it.”

“I don’t think Elenwë would like it,” Findekáno says, unable to bear it. 

“Oh, come on, they aren’t married yet,” Findaráto says, “And she’s not here, let him have some fun.”

He takes Turukáno’s hand and puts it on Maitimo’s ass. 

“Pinch it!” he says.

Turukáno does. Maitimo’s arms shake. Findekáno feels lightheaded and nauseous. The people at the table pretend they are busy with other things.

“Now open up for us, cousin,” Findaráto orders, “Come on, put your hands on your cheeks and pull them apart.”

Maitimo hesitates for a second before leaning his face and shoulders against the floor and obeying. 

“You are being so good, Maitimo,” Findaráto says, “I’m sorry for doubting you, Findekáno, you have trained him well.”

His index finger slides along the crack of Maitimo’s ass. Findekáno tenses, leaning forward, ready to stop his cousin, but Findaráto doesn’t go far. He just slides his finger up and down, drawing small gasps from Maitimo. 

“Does it feel good, cousin?” he asks, “Turukáno, look at him blush. He is almost as fun as Tyelkormo. Remember when—”

In an instant Maitimo’s hands are around Findaráto’s throat. “What did you do to my brother?” he growls.

All conversation stops. Everyone is looking at Maitimo and Findaráto. Some have drawn blades. Findekáno feels like time has slowed down. He stands up heavily, as though he’s moving underwater. He doesn’t know how he sounds so calm when he doesn’t feel calm at all. He says: “Let him go, Maitimo. Now.”

Maitimo releases Findaráto and falls back to his knees. He looks as shocked as Findekáno feels.

“I’m sorry,” Maitimo says, looking at Findekáno, “My lord. I’m sorry.”

“Apologize to _me_!” Findaráto hisses.

“I’m sorry, my lord,” Maitimo says, turning to him and bowing his head, “I’m very sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

Findaráto pushes Maitimo’s head down until his forehead is pressed to the floor. “Try again,” he says.

“Please forgive me, my lord,” Maitimo says, “I made a mistake. It won’t happen again. I’m sorry.”

Findaráto pushes his chin up with his boot. “You tried to kill me,” he says.

“No, I-I wasn’t. I… it-it was a mistake, I’m very sorry,” Maitimo repeats.

Findaráto pretends to be thinking. For a moment Findekáno wishes Maitimo did kill him. 

“I will forgive you as you ask so nicely,” Findaráto says finally, “But you have to be punished for your actions. Doesn’t he, Findekáno?”

“Of course, cousin,” Findekáno says, “What he did was unacceptable. Rest assured he will be punished for it.”

“No,” Findaráto says, “I want him punished now and in front of me. It is only fair.”

“Findaráto is right,” Nolofinwë says, “He has been wronged, he has the right to witness the punishment. What do you have in mind, nephew?”

“Well, I was thinking to shave his hair off…”

Maitimo and Findekáno both gasp. They aren’t the only ones. Such an insult is unheard of. Though what they have been doing to Fëanáro and his sons was also unheard of once. Now nothing is off limits.

“Or I might give him a beating,” Findaráto says, “What do you prefer, Findekáno? He is yours after all.”

It is unthinkable for an elf to agree to shave off hair. It’s the ultimate humiliation. It goes double for someone with hair as rare and beautiful as Maitimo’s. But Findekáno doesn’t want to choose for Maitimo.

“Why don’t we make _him_ pick one?” he says.

Findaráto’s eyes shine. “Brilliant idea,” he says and looks down at Maitimo, “What do you say, cousin? Do we shave off your hair or spank that pert ass of yours?”

Maitimo is shaking worse than ever. “Not-not my hair, please,” he says.

“Not your hair,” Findaráto repeats, “So what is it you choose, cousin? Speak up.”

“I choose spanking,” Maitimo says.

Findekáno hates how defeated he sounds. He longs to hold Maitimo, to shield him from this torture, to comfort him, but there is nothing he can do.

“Good choice,” Findaráto says, “I think fifty blows are enough for the first time. Please, cousin, take your place.”

He points to his lap. Trembling, Maitimo lies down across it, his feet and hair brushing the floor.

“After each blow you apologize again. Is it clear?” Findaráto asks.

“Yes, my lord.”

Findaráto delivers the first blow immediately. Findekáno jumps worse than Maitimo.

“I’m sorry, my lord,” Maitimo says.

Findaráto smiles and hits him again. After the first few blows, the conversation resumes. Someone asks Findekáno something, but he registers neither the question, nor his own answer. All he can do is count the blows.

Maitimo is nearly silent until the fourteenth. After that one, he makes a desperate sound in his throat before his apology. His breath starts hitching and his words come out shaky and garbled. When Findekáno counts nineteen, Maitimo whimpers. He moans after the twenty-second. 

After delivering twenty-five blows, Findaráto stops and rubs his palm. 

“This hurts,” he says good-naturedly, “Findekáno, would you mind continuing for me?”

Findekáno has never wanted anything less.

“Gladly,” he says.

Findaráto pushes Maitimo away. He curls on the floor, his knees to his chest. Findaráto pulls the leash, making him sit straight on his knees. Findekáno’s eyes widen when he sees that Maitimo is half-hard. Only now he realizes what Findaráto added to the wine. He bites the inside of his cheek to have something else to focus on besides rage and guilt. 

Findaráto leans down and touches the swollen cock and Maitimo cries out weakly. Angry and helpless tears of humiliation swiftly fall down his eyes. 

“See, I told you that you will have fun too,” Findaráto says. 

Maitimo shakes with silent sobs. 

“Enough of that. Go to Findekáno,” Findaráto says, pushing him away.

Maitimo crawls unsteadily and kneels in front of Findekáno, looking up at him with tearful eyes. Nolofinwë leans towards him.

“Beg him for it,” he says. 

Maitimo stares at him, uncomprehending. 

“Beg Findekáno to continue your punishment,” Nolofinwë says.

It takes Maitimo a minute to get his lips moving. “Please…” He trails off. “Finno, don’t,” he mouths.

Findekáno’s heart skips a bit. He tenses, glancing at his father to see if he’s noticed. Nolofinwë is frowning. Findekáno sends a look to Maitimo, begging him silently to pull himself together. They can’t fail. It will be worse.

Maitimo gulps. He looks around with wild eyes. Findekáno can tell that he’s thinking of a way out, trying to escape it, but he can also tell that Maitimo isn’t thinking straight. His pupils are blown wide and he looks out of it.

“Please…” Maitimo starts again. “Mercy, my lord.” He presses his forehead to Findekáno’s knee. “Please, mercy.” 

Findekáno’s hands are trembling. He has no idea what to do. Maitimo probably doesn’t fully realize the danger they are in at this moment. Findekáno has to think for both of them.

“Maitimo, stop it,” he warns.

“Cut off my hair,” Maitimo starts rambling, “Half of it. Half of one punishment, half of the other. Please. I receive both punishments this way. Just like you wanted in the beginning. It’s fair. Half the beating, half the hair.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Findekáno sees Nolofinwë’s face darken. Everyone is watching him, waiting for him to act. Findekáno knows he has to do something and quick or someone else will and it will be worse, so much worse. But he doesn’t know what to do. Maitimo is relying on him, hoping he will save him, that’s why he’s doing this. If it were Maitimo in Findekáno’s place, he would think of something, he would do something to save him, to save them both, he wouldn’t leave Findekáno to suffer. Findekáno is not Maitimo. He doesn’t see a painless way out of this. Maitimo is still pleading, bringing arguments in favor of his offer, trying to convince him.

Findekáno backhands him.

Maitimo’s head flies to the side. He falls silent immediately. His lip is bleeding. He looks back at Findekáno, betrayed, so much pain in his eyes that Findekáno’s heart shutters.

“Don’t bargain with me,” Findekáno says, barely controlling his voice.

“I-I apologize, my lord,” Maitimo whispers, bowing his head again. 

Nolofinwë reaches for the leash and yanks it.

“Five more blows from me for thinking you are smarter than us,” he says, “You will find no mercy here.”

He pulls Maitimo up, making him lie across his and Findekáno’s laps.

“Start, Findekáno,” he says, “Twenty-five blows.” He presses Maitimo’s face to his crotch. 

Findekáno doesn’t dare be merciful. He hits with enough strength, but his father still demands from him to go harder. Maitimo is outright sobbing now, his apologies coming out muffled and weak. Nolofinwë’s hand in his hair is gentle, but it still crushes Maitimo’s face into his crotch. Findekáno feels Maitimo grow harder against his thigh as his cock rubs against Findekáno’s robes. 

Findekáno stares right ahead and continues his task. He tells himself that it will be over soon, that it’s just a nightmare and it will end. He tells himself he has to stay strong for Maitimo, he can’t break down, can’t ruin everything. He keeps delivering the blows and hates everyone present except Maitimo with a passion, but most of all he hates himself.

He falls back in his chair when he delivers all twenty-five blows. His eyes are burning, tears threatening to fall. He blinks them away. It will be over soon. It will.

Maitimo doesn’t move until Nolofinwë orders it. Then he kneels, shaking like a leaf, his long hair hiding his face. His cock is still hard. 

“Look what you did,” Nolofinwë says sternly.

Maitimo looks up. Nolofinwë’s robes are stained with tears, snot and blood.

“I’m sorry, my lord,” Maitimo says immediately, stumbling over words, “No, my-my king, I apologize! Please.”

“Another five blows for this,” Nolofinwë says and Maitimo’s apologies dissolve into sobs.

Nolofinwë makes him turn around and face the lords present in the hall.

“Look at him,” Nolofinwë says, “Look at the proud son of proud Fëanáro. Look at how easily he has been brought down. Is this who was going to rule us? The revolt was needed. We had to weed out the weak.”

He pulls Maitimo’s leash hard. The younger elf falls back, gasping for breath. 

“You still have ten more blows to receive,” Nolofinwë says.

He drags Maitimo up on his lap and pushes his upper body to Findekáno. Maitimo shows no resistance. Findekáno doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He doesn’t know if Maitimo would welcome his touch or hate it. He keeps them at his sides, but Nolofinwë’s first blow is so strong that he has to hold Maitimo to stop him from falling head down.

Maitimo cries out and clutches at Findekáno’s robes. Findekáno holds him by the shoulders, feels the tremors rocking his body and waits for it to be over. He doesn’t remember when the feast started. It feels like ages ago. It feels like it will never end.

Nolofinwë’s blows don’t get weaker. Maitimo has hidden his face against Findekáno’s thigh and after the fifth blow bites it for a short moment, then pulls back, mumbling a terrified apology. Findekáno wants to tell him to bite as hard as he wants, he deserves it and more, but he can only push a strand of sweat-drenched hair behind Maitimo’s ear, discreetly, so no one will notice.

When Nolofinwë hits him for the seventh time, Maitimo shudders violently and sobs harder than before. Findekáno knows why, knows what happened. He bites his lips hard enough to draw blood, he wants to shout for all of it to stop, he wants to stand and scream how wrong all of this is, how vile, he wants to take Maitimo away and never return.

Nolofinwë pushes Maitimo away when it is over. He kneels, his face still hidden in Findekáno’s lap, his fists still closed around his robes.

“Looks like you enjoyed yourself, cousin,” Findaráto says with a laugh.

“Look here,” Nolofinwë orders.

Maitimo raises his head. He isn’t crying anymore. He looks on the verge of collapse and Findekáno is afraid to let him go.

Nolofinwë is pointing to his robes spattered with Maitimo’s come. 

“I apologize, my king.” Maitimo’s voice is barely audible.

“You will clean this,” Nolofinwë says.

“Yes, my king.”

“With your mouth.”

Maitimo shudders. “Yes.”

“Father, please don’t,” Findekáno says. Nolofinwë looks at him surprised and he quickly adds, “He will vomit. That’s disgusting.”

“He won’t,” Nolofinwë says, “If he does, he will clean it too. Hurry up, Maitimo.”

Findekáno looks away as Maitimo crawls to his father. He hears Maitimo gag a couple of times, but he doesn’t throw up. When he is done, he bows his head and puts his hands on his thighs, fingers digging into his skin. His hair covers his face like a silk curtain.

“Maitimo, push your hair back, I want to see your face,” Findaráto says.

Maitimo does it with shaking hands. He is deathly pale.

“Maybe we should still shave it off?” Findaráto muses.

“Shut the fuck up,” Findekáno spits. 

Several faces turn to him in surprise, but Findekáno doesn’t regret his words. 

“Don’t be so defensive, cousin, it was just a suggestion,” Findaráto says. He’s still smiling but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “He’s yours to do with as you wish.”

The feast is over fast after that. Findekáno takes the leash and stands up. 

“Let’s go, Maitimo,” he says quietly, too ashamed to even look at him.

“I will accompany you,” Nolofinwë says.

Findekáno nods, dread rising in his heart. They leave with Maitimo crawling behind.

“Why were you so rude to Findaráto?” Nolofinwë asks when they are far enough from the hall, “If he wants it, give Maitimo to him sometimes. He won’t do anything to harm him permanently if that’s what you are worried about. He just wants to have fun. He’s Arafinwë’s son. We need his support. We need to keep him happy.” 

“He is happy enough,” Findekáno snaps.

“I hope you aren’t jealous,” Nolofinwë says, “You really were too defensive of Maitimo today. He must not be more than a toy for you and toys can be shared. I do hope you know that.”

Nolofinwë looks at him with a shrewd, penetrating gaze, and Findekáno’s heart start hammering in his chest. How should he answer? What would Maitimo do? What would he say? He thinks for a moment. Maitimo would try to incriminate Findaráto. He would play on Nolofinwë’s fears. He would try to make him believe that Findaráto can’t be trusted.

“Father, I’m not a child,” Findekáno says, “Of course I’m not jealous. I just don’t want Findaráto to think he’s equal to me. He wants Maitimo because he’s mine. He wants to take away something that’s mine. I’m the crown prince. Why can’t I have something that’s only mine? I know we need Findaráto’s support, but I won’t let him undermine my authority.” He leans closer to his father and whispers, “I don’t think it’s a good idea to spoil him. There has been one revolt and I won’t be surprised if Findaráto believes there might be another.”

They stop by Findekáno’s door. Nolofinwë looks pensive.

“You have given me something to think about,” he says, “All right, Findekáno, go and rest.” He looks down at Maitimo. “Don’t be too mellow with him.”

“Of course not, father,” Findekáno says.

He yanks the leash and Maitimo stumbles, falling face down on his uncle’s boots. Nolofinwë chuckles, leans down and pats Maitimo’s head. 

“I am going to visit your father,” he says, “Do you have anything to tell him?”

Maitimo says nothing, he doesn’t even move.

“No?” Nolofinwë says, “Then I will make sure he finds out how good you have been.”

Maitimo’s breath hitches. Nolofinwë leaves laughing, as Findekáno opens the door to his chamber and hurries inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof. i'm so mean to my poor ginger son. in this chapter: humiliation, the public kind, sexual abuse, non-consensual touching, aphrodisiacs, non-consensual spanking, forced arousal, forced orgasm, forced come-eating, wee bit of choking, vomiting mention, one slap (unwanted by both parties and the more painful for it)
> 
> you can always request a drabble, which probably won't be a drabble but still.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the aftermath of the party of maitimo's nightmares. angst and hurt/comfort, nothing else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow, it's been a while. a whole apocalypse has started since this fic was last updated. hope y'all are doing well. 
> 
> quenya names used in this chapter:
> 
> Fëanáro = Fëanor  
> Maitimo, Russandol, Russo = Maedhros  
> Findekáno, Finno = Fingon  
> Findaráto = Finrod  
> spoilery triggers in the end notes

Findekáno unlocks the collar as soon as he closes the door and Maitimo scrambles away. 

“Russo, wait!” Findekáno says.

Maitimo snatches off a blanket from the bed and wraps it around himself. 

“Russo,” Findekáno says, reaching for him.

“Don’t touch me!” Maitimo cries.

Findekáno pulls his hand back. “I’m sorry.” 

Maitimo takes a pillow from the bed and starts walking backwards to the corner, his wide eyes fixed on the other elf. Findekáno finally lets his tears fall.

“Russandol, I’m so sorry,” he says, “You know I had to do it. I had to make them believe that I don’t care about you.”

“Well, you were quite convincing,” Maitimo says.

Findekáno recoils as if he’s been slapped. Maitimo curls up in the corner with the pillow, turning his back to Findekáno.

“Russo,” Findekáno says in a shaking voice, “Please. Please tell me what I can do for you. How do I make it better?”

“Leave me alone,” Maitimo says.

Findekáno nods. “All right. Whatever you want, Russandol.”

He goes and sits in another corner. The bed is between him and Maitimo, so Findekáno can’t see him, but he can hear his stuttering breath, can feel him tremble. Findekáno wraps his arms around his knees, rests his head on them and weeps, hating himself for it. What does he have to cry about? He’s not the one who has been beaten and humiliated. He’s the one who wasn’t able to protect his lover from it, who sat helplessly while his lover was being hurt, who’s so useless that can’t even comfort him now, can’t take his pain away. But he has to try, he has to do something.

“Russo?” he says.

No answer. Findekáno goes to sit near the bed, so that he can see Maitimo.

“Russo, I could apply ointments to your-your… skin, so it doesn’t hurt so much.”

“I said I don’t want you to touch me!”

“I’m-I’m sorry. I just want to help.”

“You could have helped me when I begged you for it!”

Findekáno claps his hand over his mouth to stop himself from wailing. He can’t breathe, his throat and eyes are burning, his stomach is twisting and silently he doubles over in pain.

“You hit me,” Maitimo says, “I begged you for mercy and you hit me.”

“I didn’t know what to do,” Findekáno sobs. “I couldn’t-couldn’t… I-I don’t know what to say. I’m just-I’m so sorry, Russandol.”

Maitimo doesn’t answer. He just curls up tighter around his pillow. Findekáno goes back to his corner and lies down on the floor. His tears don’t stop. His limbs are heavy, his head pounds and he weeps silently and shakes until he can’t anymore. He lies on his back and stares at the ceiling. He can feel Maitimo fall into a fitful sleep. He can’t tell for how long, but he jumps when Maitimo wakes up with a gasp.

“Russo?” he says.

Maitimo doesn’t answer, but Findekáno hears how his breathing quickens.

“Russo,” Findekáno says, “Do you want me to draw you a bath?”

He waits patiently for a minute, for two minutes, for three.

“Yes,” Maitimo says finally.

Findekáno forgets his pounding head and hurting body immediately. He jumps to his feet and almost skips to Russandol, plopping down in front of him.

“A cold one or a hot one?”

“Hot.”

“Oh! You know what? Let’s go to the Springs.” 

Maitimo turns to him. Findekáno winces seeing his puffy face, though his is probably no better. There is a small bruise on his cheekbone and Findekáno almost starts crying again when he notices it.

“To the Springs? Are you mad? Why don’t you order your private bath prepared?” Maitimo asks.

“But you love the Springs. No one uses it except the House of Fëanáro. It’s too hot. Let’s go, Russandol, no one will bother you there.”

“Fine,” Maitimo says.

Findekáno takes the collar and Maitimo presses his back to the wall. 

“I’m not wearing that,” he says.

“Russo…”

“No.”

“Russo, we will get in trouble if someone sees you without the collar.”

“Fine!” Maitimo says, his cheeks coloring red. “But I’m keeping the blanket.”

“All right.”

“And the pillow.”

“If you promise to give them to me if we hear someone.”

Maitimo nods and allows Findekáno to collar him.

They walk to the Springs, which is a large bath chamber in the bowels of the palace built on a natural hot spring. Only the Fëanorians are able to bear the temperature and it has been abandoned after the revolt. They don’t meet anyone on the way and when they reach the Springs, Findekáno takes off Maitimo’s collar.

“What if someone comes?” Maitimo asks.

“I will think of something,” Findekáno answers.

“Right, you can tell them that you’ve brought me here to fuck me. Then you will actually fuck me to be _convincing_.”

Findekáno doesn’t start weeping again, though he very much wants to.

“You are being cruel to me, Russandol,” he says quietly.

“I don’t care,” Maitimo says.

He shoves the pillow to Findekáno and walks to the second chamber, where the actual spring is.

“Stay there,” he tells Findekáno.

The younger elf nods mutely, clutching the pillow to his chest.

/////

Maitimo folds the blanket carefully and puts it away. He walks to the pool full of hot water and slowly submerges, hissing when his backside stings and burns.

“Should have chosen the cold bath,” he mutters to himself but when his muscles relax in the water, he doesn’t regret his choice.

His cock is half-hard again. He curses Findaráto, his eyes filling with tears. He strokes himself as quickly as he can and comes with a gasp. Bile rises to his throat and he closes his mouth with his hands, swallowing it. He’s shaking. He shuts his eyes tightly and clenches his fists, trying to take deep breaths. It doesn’t help. 

He pulls his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them and resting his head over them. Images flash behind his eyelids: his father, bound and suffering, Tyelkormo, raging as Findaráto grins, Findaráto’s laughter, his soft hands touching, crawling over Maitimo’s skin, the sound of flesh hitting flesh and his desperate prayer for it to be over, Nolofinwë’s hand in his hair, Findekáno hitting him, Findekáno’s wounded and tearful look.

Maitimo screams, the sound muffled as he bites on his hand. He pounds at the water, scratches his thighs and cries out in helpless fury. He knows Findekáno can hear him. He imagines him hovering near the entrance, wanting with all his heart to come and comfort but afraid to upset Maitimo more.

Or maybe he’s barely holding back laughter. Maybe he enjoys listening to Maitimo’s suffering. Maybe he’s just like the others, just biding his time to twist the knife, to hurt more, to use Maitimo’s love and trust against him.

_No._

Maitimo shakes his head. He can’t think like that. Findekáno did all of that to help him. He doesn’t have it in him to stab someone in the back. Findekáno is his most faithful and after today probably the only ally. He's the love of Maitimo's life. Maitimo is lost without him. He has to trust him. There is simply no other way. 

He wipes his tears and takes a few moments to calm down. 

“Finno?” he calls. “Can you please come here?”

Findekáno hurries inside, his eyes wide and puffy. 

“Russo?” he says warily.

Maitimo extends his hand and Findekáno takes it with no hesitation. Maitimo covers it with his other hand and brings it to his lips. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, leaning his head against Findekáno’s hip, “You were right. I was cruel. I’m sorry.”

“Russo…” Findekáno says incredulously. He carefully strokes Maitimo’s damp hair. “Russo, you have nothing to apologize for. After what I did, your distrust is what I deserve.”

“You did what you thought would save us,” Maitimo says. “You did everything you could, but we lost, Finno. I lost. Your father defeated me.” He hides his face in his hands. He didn’t think he had more tears to spare but they come burning his eyes. “I should have-should have… It was all wrong, I made mistakes. I lost.”

Fingon drops to his knees near the pool.

“Russandol, we haven’t lost yet,” he says. “What are you talking about?”

“Why do you think your father made his little speech to the lords?” Maitimo says, “He knew some of them might have been thinking of supporting me. There were talks that I should be the one to rule after grandfather disappeared. He defeated me in front of them. Who will support me now after what they saw? They will think I am weak and they will be right. I surrendered too easily. I let him destroy me. I wept and begged and-and—”

“Russo, stop!” Findekáno says firmly, taking Maitimo’s face between his hands. “Look at me. You didn’t surrender then, you are surrendering now. But I won’t let you. We will fight. We will find allies. We will save your family. We will get you out of here. I promise you this. I swore to it and I will see it through. Do you hear me? Do you hear me, Russandol?”

“Yes,” Maitimo breathes.

“Do you believe me?”

“Yes.”

Findekáno smiles and tries to pull back but Maitimo doesn’t let him go.

“Tell me,” he says, looking desperately into his eyes, “Do you think less of me now that you saw me brought so low?”

He feels his hands shaking and his eyes burn again, but he blinks his tears away. He has to look into Findekáno’s eyes when he hears the answer.

“Russo,” Findekáno says, “How can you even ask me that? I think the world of you. I think you were stronger than I would have been. No elf should go through what you did, Russandol. You were put in a situation where you had no way of winning. They were determined to beat you down, but nothing they did could ever make me think less of you. It did make me think less of them.”

“I thought I could do it, I thought I was ready for anything. I thought I would just keep my head down, swallow my pride and wait for it to be over, but it was-it was… My cousins, Finno, my uncle… Why? I loved them, I did. How could they do this to me?”

“I don’t know, Russo, I ask myself the same questions every day.” 

Maitimo’s head falls on Findekáno’s shoulder. “Thank you,” he says tearfully, “Thank you for being you.”

Findekáno wraps his arms around his lover and doesn’t let go of him until Maitimo’s breathing evens out.

“Would you like me to wash your hair?” he asks then.

“I would love you forever if you did,” Maitimo answers.

Findekáno kisses him on the mouth and jumps up. Maitimo hears him fuss with soaps, oils and brushes. He lays in the hot water and closes his eyes, letting Findekáno do whatever he wishes with his hair. He focuses on the gentle way Findekáno rubs his scalp, oils and brushes out his long hair. Nothing else matters but Findekáno's hands. Not at this moment. He loses track of time and doesn’t even notice how he dozes off. He wakes up when Findekáno puts a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“Time to go?” Maitimo asks.

Findekáno nods. He helps Maitimo up, wraps him in a towel and dries him off. Maitimo accepts the collar without complaint and they go back to the chamber, where Findekáno guides him to the bed. Maitimo lies on his side under a blanket and Findekáno mirrors his position. Maitimo smiles at him. Findekáno brings his hand to Maitimo’s face and very carefully touches the bruise on his cheekbone.

“I am sorry,” he whispers.

“I know. I forgive you,” Maitimo says and sees how some tension leaves Findekáno’s body and his eyes shine brighter.

“We will recover from this,” he says and he sounds so convinced that Maitimo believes him. “The lords cannot back away now. I bet many of them are even more resolute to do it, now that they once again were shown how-how cruel my father can be. You will see, Russo.”

Maitimo puts a light kiss on his lips and then winces as he feels himself harden again. He shuts his eyes tightly and wills the erection away, but it doesn’t help. 

“Russo, what’s wrong?” Findekáno asks.

“Findaráto’s damned potion,” Maitimo mutters, “It hasn’t run its course yet.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault. By the way, good thinking there about Findaráto. You definitely planted the seed of doubt in your father’s mind. I think we can use that to get rid of our cousins.”

“To get rid of them?”

“Yes.” Maitimo squirms. “I would tell you if I weren’t distracted by… Ugh!” He bangs his fist on the bed, then covers his eyes. He’s all flushed and he’s breathing fast and he hates it.

Findekáno clears his throat. “Maybe-maybe you should…” 

“I don’t want to!” Maitimo cries.

“All right. Would you let me?”

Maitimo lowers his hand and sees Findekáno’s earnest look, sees the love and devotion in his eyes. He nods. Findekáno moves closer, slides under Maitimo’s blanket and puts a hand on the back of his head, caressing his nape with his thumb. His other hand is on Maitimo’s stomach and the older elf gasps when it moves lower.

“You are fine,” Findekáno whispers. “Stop me whenever you want it, all right?”

Maitimo nods and hides his face in the crook of Findekáno’s neck. Tears prick his eyes when Findekáno’s hand wraps around his cock. They haven’t been intimate for months, ever since the revolt, and he didn’t want it to be like this. 

“Shh,” Findekáno murmurs caressing his hair, “Don’t think about anything. Try to forget everything and everyone. Except me, of course.”

He laughs, pleased with his wit, and Maitimo can’t help but fall in love with him again. He breathes in Findekáno’s scent and the coils around his heart loosen. He puts open-mouthed kisses on Findekáno’s collarbone and neck as his lover strokes him. His cock is tender after the day's ordeals, but he feels safe and warm in Findekáno’s embrace and as he comes with a choked moan, he thinks of nothing but his lover. 

Findekáno pulls him closer, wrapping his arm around his back. “I love you,” he whispers.

Maitimo shifts a little and rests his forehead against Findekáno’s. “I love you,” he says.

Findekáno grins, happy and clearly relieved, and pecks Maitimo on the nose. Maitimo complains when he rises, but he’s half-asleep when Findekáno comes back with a warm cloth to wipe him off. After that, he kisses Maitimo on the corner of his mouth and crawls under the covers again, offering Maitimo the comfort of his arms. Maitimo accepts it gratefully and despite his various pains and worries, he sleeps soundly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was nice to my son this time. well, more or less.  
> in this chapter: direct aftermath of that horrible feast, where maitimo was abused (including sexually) and debased, angst angst angst, LOVERS' SPAT because maitimo is traumatized and finno is guilty (and traumatized too, let's be honest, it hasn't been easy for the poor boy), fleeting mention of self-harm, self-blame, unwanted arousal, handjob, which both parties wouldn't want in these circumstances given the chance, but they make the best of it
> 
> you're still welcome to request a drabble but i still have one celegorm and one maglor drabble to write, so it won't be fast. i posted a feanor one in the comments of chapter 4.


End file.
